His expression turned hard and cold. Then he stepped backwards, but his stare never left his father's casket. The steely expression changed to fiery. "You can if you want."
She hugged her waist. She'd asked the wrong thing. Her heart fluttered near John, but she tried to act like an adult instead of a teenager. It was good to see him again. "I don't. I came out of respect for Vicki."
He placed his hand on her arm to lead her to an empty space along the wall. Her skin became alive as he said, "I came because Peter asked. He wants to pretend we're a happy family for the world to see. Look at him now. He's over there as the new king."
He leaned against the wall and let the throngs of people pass. She followed suit, standing next to him as she sipped her wine. "I assumed he was taking over. Did you want that job?"
John's entire body jumped as if she'd slapped him. "Hell no."
She gulped her sip fast. She kept saying the wrong thing. Inside his blue eyes was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Alice remembered that he used to be kind. She rubbed her lips together. "Then who cares?"
He drank his wine and scanned the room. After making the rounds with his gaze, he took in her entire figure with an intensity that made her knees weak. "What is it you do, Alice?"
"Collins Organic Farm." She brushed her brown bob behind her ear. "I work for my family. What is it you do?"
Again, his blue eyes flashed as if lightning was in his stare. She watched him, hypnotized. "I work in real estate."
"Liar." She tilted her head. He definitely didn't work in real estate. She crossed her arm around her chest. Without another word, she waited for the fallout of her remark.
His eyebrows quirked in shock. Then his dimples appeared. "What do you think I do?"
She met his smile with her own. "Professional bad boy and poker player. It's what I always thought."
He chuckled. "I played football."
She nodded. A moment of silence clung in the air as she sipped her drink. Then she said, "I went to your games in high school, but I also remember how you set up more than a few poker games. You always read people correctly."
His sexy smile lit the room and her skin melted, literally fused into itself. "I remember that. You cheered with my sister, and I played you, too."
Perhaps she shouldn't spend the funeral with John, but then again Vicki's older brother could be a good friend to have in her corner for help with the contract. "You did. I'm glad you remember more than just us talking at funerals."
His gaze went past her and flashed toward the casket. He stood straighter and it seemed as if a dark cloud passed over him. His face hardened. "I also remember how my father came to my room as I did homework, handed me a million dollars in cash, had me hold it and touch it—and then he took it away and told me to earn it myself."
She tilted her head. "So did you?"
He clenched his jaw and lifted his chin as if he expected to be hit in the face. "Absolutely not."
She reached out to his arm and squeezed his biceps. "Good. I was always attracted to bums, so you'd fit right in."
Had she just said that out loud… at a wake? Her face was hot. She must have turned beet red.
His dimples appeared again. "Alice, stick to my side tonight. I don't think I like most of the other people here."
"Deal." She finished her wine. "I'd like for us to be friends, and not just people who meet at funerals."
He sighed. Without an answer, he took her empty glass, and placed it on the table next to his. He then turned and leaned closer. "Alice, you're the only woman here who hasn't looked at me with dollar bills in her eyes. Protect me from the vultures."
His right side brushed against her. Her mind turned to pudding. "Glad to be of help, John."
He sucked in his breath. His energy changed as he stood taller. "Here comes Peter."
She also stood straighter and stopped leaning against the wall. She nodded. "You'll need to talk to him."
He clasped her wrist and she froze. His touch hypnotized her. All she could do was stare at him as he said, "Don't leave my side."
If he held her hand, then she'd lose whatever was left of her mind. It was so inappropriate to be lustful at a wake. Her body disagreed. He took her hand and kept her close as Peter approached. It was strange. Victoria's brothers were very different. Peter's dark hair, brown eyes, and six-foot-three figure had muscles, but his presence left Alice cold and indifferent. She couldn't read him, but with John it was entirely different. Her skin electrified when he touched her arm. She swallowed. His lighter hair, blue eyes, and sexy dimples were all she'd ever dreamed about.
John leaned back against the wall and whispered to her, "He's up to something."
She didn't speak as Peter stopped in front of them. Neither of the men said a word to each other. They just stared.
Alice licked her lips and tried to understand what the silence meant. This might be the first time either of them had seen each other since the last funeral, though she couldn't be sure. Peter gazed at her fingers entwined with John's. "We should talk."
"Now?" John asked. His grasp remained firm. "I'm getting reacquainted with an old friend."
Peter nodded. "You'll be here for the reading of the will in a few days?"
John shrugged. "Sure, as long as Alice here keeps talking to me."
"Keep him here." Peter turned toward her. "Your contract depends on it."
John let go of her hand. Alice's heart ached as if she'd just been unmasked as some kind of fraud. She stood next to John as Peter stormed off.
John stood straighter and stiffened in front of her eyes. "Contract?"
"My family's produce gets sold in supermarkets around the country because of our contract with Morgan Enterprises. They are our biggest buyer."
John's face became unreadable as his cold veneer cut through whatever warmth was between them. He shook his head. "The House of Morgan owns everyone and everything. I'd hoped you were different."
Her eyes threatened to tear from the sting in his words, but Alice was no longer a shy girl from high school, and she wouldn't act that way. John started to walk away. She placed her hand on her hip and shouted after him. "John Morgan, don't you dare sit in judgment of me and my family. We work hard every day for what we produce and we're proud of it. What have you ever done?"
John stopped, turned. His gaze stayed on her for several beats. Then he stormed down the hall like he'd been stung by an entire swarm of wasps. She rubbed her arms. Unsure what to do, she retreated inside the vestry. She'd come to this affair to be seen, and it was time she knelt at the altar to get her picture taken, just like every other person here.
John Morgan could rot. Her crush on him died today, finally. She hadn't seen him since the day her best friend was buried, and there was clearly a good reason to stay far away. Self-absorbed jerks didn't deserve her time.
Chapter Three